Not Myself Today
by PandaFire McMango
Summary: Everyone is used to Raven acting a little weird...but this time there's only one person around to get caught in the crossfire. Who knows what's going on with Rae, as well as what it'll do to the Titans? BBRae, and all the old hats are there as well.
1. Trigger

Hey. So...this is not my usual. At all. Don't ask where it can from, I have no effing idea. I have an arc planned out, but me writing more depends on feedback. So review plz?

This takes places shortly after the events of _Old Friends_, when the Titans have briefly reassembled and Raven and Gar have been broken up--not amicably--for a while. Lian is alive and well and Dick is...off Gothaming or something. He might show up later, who knows?

i'm rating the stoiry down to T for the moment, because I don't think it's THAT crazy. Let me know if you think it should go up. Anyways...here you go.

* * *

"Shove over to the left, green-genes, I'm trying to eat here."

"But you're hogging all the sun! If I don't get a little solar energy with my cereal, tin-man, I'll just be in a funk all day. Ain't that right, Kory?"

"For me, maybe, Gar. You, I'm not so sure."

"Whatever, just give the metal man some room so I can finish my toast in peace. God, I thought having breakfast with the twins could give me a headache."

"Of course, the long-suffering father. You and Roy can start a club together: Whining Parents of America. WPA for short. Doesn't quite have the same ring as JLA, but FDR thought it sounded good."

"FDR? What?"

"Do you never watch the History Channel, Roy?"

"No, _Garfield, _because I have this thing called a life."

"You also have this thing called a stick up your—"

"Can you boys hold off on the twelve-year-old talk until I finish my cornflakes? Please?"

"Sorry, Donna, we'll—Ow! Gar!"

"What?"

"Stop with the scratching already! That hurts!"

"Sorry, sometimes a guy just needs a scratching post."

"For X'hal's sake, Gar…"

"He started it!"

"Your _mom_ started it."

"Real mature, guys. Reaaaal mature."

_Just another breakfast with the Titans.

* * *

_

She didn't join them. Why didn't she join them? She could hear them, laughing and joking down the hall. Making fun of each other, bringing up old stories, talking about plans for the day. Like the family they were. Like the family she was supposed to be a part of.

She had no one to blame but herself, she knew that. No one was forcing her to meditate when her mind was anywhere but focused, sitting cross-legged on her bed, unwilling to get up and close the door. No one was forcing her away. In fact, they'd be thrilled to see her there, acting like a normal person for once.

But that wasn't how things worked. Raven wasn't normal. Never had been. And much as part of her ached to try to be, to take a tiny leap of faith and just go have breakfast with her friends…she couldn't. Some days, she could. Others, it was hardly worth it getting out of bed. Just to see Kory and Donna, looking at her with pity, like she was some sad female failure. Just to hear Vic's gentle "good morning" and resent him for meaning it. Just to feel the awkward tension in Wally and Roy, oozing out of their pores as they looked at her. Just to look at him, green hair falling into his green eyes, ignoring his jokes, ignoring his snarking, ignoring the ache in her chest when he grinned…

_Okay, breathe, Raven, focus. Meditation. Been doing it ever since you can remember. Just close your eyes and feel yourself as part of the world, part of the universe, part of every dimension…focus…focus…_

_**SLEEP, RAVEN…REST, RAVEN …SLEEP, SWEET RAVEN…REST, SLEEP, INERTIA, SLEEP…RAVEN….**_

Before the sudden intruder in her head finished speaking, before the echo of the sharp, grating voice faded in the recesses of her brain, Raven had fallen limply back on her bed, eyes closing of their own accord, her body slowing to a deep, heavy, dreamless slumber.

Somewhere inside the room but not from anywhere _in_ the room, there was quiet laughter.

* * *

"So. What're y'all up to today?"

"Donna and I are going to go look up some of her old work buddies, see if anyone needs a freelance model or photographer on the side. Both of us could do with some cash, and it'd be nice to have a little job now and then," said Kory, fluffing her hair with one hand. Donna nodded and continued giving her camera the once-over on the couch, checking that everything worked smoothly. She was sitting next to Gar, who sprawled over the whole other half of the couch, juggling the remote and its two batteries. Vic and Kory were perched on various chairs, while Wally absent-mindedly circumvented the room at the speed of sound. Donna tapped her foot on the floor as she tested the shutter at each speed, clicking it every few seconds.

"I just need an excuse to get out of the Tower today, really. The place feels about as claustrophobic as a broom closet for some reason."

"I hear you, Donna. Today is an outdoors kind of day," said Roy with a small smirk. He was standing by the window, looking out over the grounds. "I'm taking Lian to a Little League game. She's thinking of joining a team and I told her we'd check it out. Anyone wanna come with?"

"I'll tag along, if you don't mind," said Vic, raising a metal hand. "I have coffee plans with Sarah, but not until four or so. I'd like to see Lian again, remind her that Uncle Vic does more than sit in front of the computer all day and send her e-cards when he's bored."

"You never send _me_ e-cards, rust-bucket."

"You _want_ an e-card, saladhead?"

"Nah, too much trouble to open them."

"And they make such god-awful noises when you actually get them open. Lian especially loves to play the 'Pop Goes The Weasel' one as often as possible, _Vic_," said Roy pointedly. "How about you, Gar, you up for some Little League?"

"Most any day I would be, Roy, but not today," Gar said apologetically, shrugging. "I have some research to do, a lot of computer files to clean up. Give Lian a hug from her Uncle Gar, though."

"Is 'cleaning computer files' code for 'watching internet porn'?" asked Wally, casually running a lap around the kitchen and zooming back to the living room. Gar rolled his eyes.

"No, speedster, surprisingly not. I'm doing it for Vic, s'matter of fact. He said he'd give me thirty days to get my junk files out of the Titans' mainframe…today's day thirty. Gotta do it."

"If he doesn't, I'm gonna erase all his old Space Trek promos," Vic said with a grin. Gar rolled his eyes at his best friend and morphed into a cat, turning his back to Vic with great aplomb. Kory giggled and scratched Gar's head, making him purr like a lawnmower.

"Well, Gar, you have fun with your junk—I mean that literally and figuratively—and the rest of you have fun as well. In case you care, I'm taking Linda and the kids to the beach for a day. They love it when Daddy runs on waves without a surfboard," Wally said as he suddenly shuddered to a stop by the door to the kitchen. His friends, used to the sudden stops and starts, barely flinched. Donna sighed contently and placed her camera carefully back into its case.

"Sounds like a plan. I guess everyone's sorted for the day…"

"Except Sleeping Beauty," said Roy, looking pointedly towards the hallway that led to, among other things, Raven's room. Kory frowned, her green eyes narrowing.

"Is she all right? I think she's been avoiding us lately…not coming out for breakfast or dinner, going to her room straight after school. Has anyone else noticed?"

"I wouldn't sweat it, Goldie," said Gar, still in feline form and still enjoying a wonderful scratch at the hands of the buxom alien. "Raven's just going through one of her I-am-antisocial-because-I-pose-a-threat-to-all-mankind phases. She'll sort it out sooner or later."

"The kitty's right," Wally agreed, shrugging. "Give her a little time, Kory. She's an angsty kid now, don't forget."

"You were an angsty kid once, don't forget," said Donna, standing and shouldering her camera. Vic laughed.

"As were we all, Donna. You wanna head out now or what, Speedy?"

"Don't call me Speedy, garbage-pail," grumbled Roy as he went for his coat. Gar morphed back to human form and gave Vic a farewell pound and grin as he and Roy headed out the door. Kory stood, stretched, ruffled Gar's hair as a goodbye, and followed Donna into the hall. Wally, of course, was probably at home already.

Gar morphed into a cat and curled up in a patch of sunlight, purring again. Vic wouldn't be home until late, not if he were going out with Sarah. The files could wait a little while longer…just a little…

* * *

_**HUNGER…YOU HUNGER, RAVEN…YOU WANT TO CONSUME, TO TAKE, TO FILL YOURSELF UNTIL YOU BURST…YOU ARE HUNGRY, RAVEN…RISE AND QUENCH YOUR HUNGER…**_

She was up like a shot, her shiny black hair falling across her face in a tangled curtain. There was no thought as to the voice of earlier, and no thought to the voice now. There was only hunger, and the desire to eat: a desire so intense that it was long moments before Raven could master it enough to actually stand and force herself, empty stomach aching and cramping with every step, into the kitchen. More seconds passed as she fought the crippling affects of the hunger in her center; then, with almost primal abandon, she began pulling food from the fridge and the cupboards and the freezer, shoving it into her mouth, wheezing for lack of air as she chewed and swallowed gigantic wads. Cereal, baloney, bread, granola bars, bananas, frozen peas, chocolate pudding, leftover pasta, hot dogs, a pot of old chili…all over it disappeared down Raven's throat. It was only after she had chewed the rind from a container of two-week-old lasagna and licked the ice cream cartons clean that the hunger began to ebb. She lay across the table, content and bloated as a floating manatee, her body and face and hair smeared in food. The kitchen looked like a riot had come and gone through it: the floor was ankle-deep in trash and the walls were Technicolor with stains and splashes and smears. She was full, so wonderfully full…and now her mind began to clear…

_**THE OTHERS…THEY HAVE WHAT YOU WANT, RAVEN…THEY HAVE WHAT YOU NEED…THEY HAVE WHAT IS BETTER…THEY CANNOT HAVE IT…ONLY YOU MUST HAVE WHAT IS BETTER, WHAT IS BEST…DESTROY WHAT THEY HAVE, RAVEN…GET RID OF IT SO THAT YOU MUST NEVER SEE IT IN THEIR HANDS AGAIN…**_

Again, it was not conscious, not even close. It was a feeling in her gut, in her chest, in her skull, buzzing and scraping against her bones as she staggered, heavy with digesting food, down the hallway towards the rooms of her friends. She knew how to get in: passcodes and scanners were no match for her, not when they had everything she wanted, everything she desired. She would destroy it all, keep it from them…she would be the best, have the best…it was not fair to give it to them…

The next time the voice spoke, it interrupted her trashing of the final room: Kory's, her alien apparatus and keepsakes strewn across the floor, some unharmed but most trampled and stomped on, or thrown against the wall. The wallpaper was ripped and the carpet torn up in places, like all the other rooms, and Raven was in the middle of tearing the mattress apart when she felt the urge to destroy begin to ebb. It was dizzying, this lack of purpose…it made her weave, and for a moment she supported herself against the wall. The voice spoke as she leaned, breathless, trying to stay upright.

_**HOW DARE THEY, RAVEN…HOW DARE THEY LOOK AT YOU LIKE THEY DO…SPEAK TO YOU LIKE THEY DO…TREAT YOU AS THEY DO…IT IS NOT FAIR, RAVEN…NOT FAIR AT ALL…**_

The anger was swift and all-consuming, and she could not have held it back had she wished to. She struck and kicked and ripped apart anything she could get her hands on: the walls, the furniture, the floor, her own clothes. Her knuckles bled, her legs crumbled at times, and she found herself intermittently vomiting the mass of food she'd consumed earlier…but it went on full-throttle until, like the others, it ran its course. She finally collapsed on the ground, shaking, unable to comprehend the damage she'd just done. The front half of Kory's room, the hallway, part of the living room…it was all destroyed. Torn apart, as though by a wild animal. The thought of it sluggishly entered her mind, and this time it was allowed to take shape and grow until she understood, as herself, what had happened.

"Great Azar," Raven breathed, clenching her hands into fists and gasping in pain as she did so. What was this…what was happening to her…she needed help…from someone…anyone…a friend…let them be home. Let them be here. Please.

She pulled herself to her feet slowly, wincing at every new point of pressure. If everything else hadn't bruised her up enough, the bout of rage would leave her sore for weeks. Or so she thought. By the time she got to full standing, her feet planted firmly on the floor, Raven found herself feeling, if not fine, then only a little achy, and not even that. She brought her hand to her face and watched as bruises faded all together, going from purple to blue to yellow to pink before her eyes.

_I can't feel myself healing; at least, I can't feel the drain of it. But I must be healing myself…what's going on? How is this happening? Why haven't the others come? Why does my stomach hurt so much? Oh yeah…the kitchen…everything I ate. I think I might have eaten that whole jar of sauerkraut. Vic'll be pissed._

The thought of her friend brought back the same urge for help as before, and Raven began to pick her way down the corridor, stepping over and around wreckage. The sight of it made her sick: she could remember doing it, ripping the building apart, but could not remember the reason, the motive, her own intent. It was a strange hollow feeling in her mind, uncomfortable and unfamiliar.

There was a screen and keyboard out of the range of destruction at the end of the hallway; Raven turned it on, entered her passcode, and activated the full-building neuroscan. Vic had installed these small stations so that anyone could perform rudimentary operations that might be needed in emergencies: call for assistance to all reachable Titans, villains' catalogue, and, among other things, a neuroscan to detect who and what exactly was inside the proximity of the Tower. It knew the unique brainwaves of the current Titans and it automatically recorded those of anyone who entered the Tower at any place, making quite a useful device for detecting brainwashing by reading abnormal brainwaves. So far, the scan showed only her and Gar inside the building: he was working in the main computer room, doing god knows what on the mainframe.

_That explains why the noise brought no one…they're all out, and the technological insulation down there is too great for the sounds to reach Garfield. Garfield…Why? Out of all of them, why does he have to be the one who finds out something is wrong with me, again? I feel vulnerable as it is around him…but now I have to go to him with this…I guess I need to—_

_**DO NOT BOTHER WITH HIM, RAVEN…BOTHER WITH WHAT YOU WANT, WHAT YOU NEED…YOU NEED EVERYTHING, RAVEN…YOU NEED IT ALL…IT'S ALL YOURS…YOU JUST HAVE TO GET IT…YOU NEED IT, RAVEN, YOU NEED IT BADLY…YOU NEED TO TAKE IT…**_

This time it wasn't the horrible impulse that turned her consciousness off. This time it was much worse. Her mind stayed alert, awake, thinking…but its thoughts began changing, mutating, until they all agreed with the voice, all wanted to do what it said. She was not brainless this time, she was still Raven; only now, she was Raven who wanted everything, wanted it all, and could figure out how to get it. She would get everything she wanted. It was hers, hers, HERS. Hers.

It took her the better part of half an hour to stockpile an impressive collection in her room. Anything she could get her hands on that belonged to someone else ended up on her bedroom floor: a book of Wally's, a pillow of Donna's, a quiver of Roy's, a bolt of Vic's, a pen of Gar's, a doll of Kory's. All of it she consciously stole, celebrating over her victory, focusing her whole energy on taking and stealing and hoarding. It felt good, so good…Raven had never felt like this before. It was hers, all hers. She had the power now: the strength. Theirs was hers. She could take what she wanted. Who cared about help from the others, it could wait, for now she needed to take it all and make it hers.

The voice struck once more when she was almost out of things to steal. She was sitting on her bed, trying to balance Roy's shoe on top of Vic's coffee mug, when it filled her head again, sharp and nasal and commanding.

_**YOU WANT HIM, RAVEN…YOU NEED HIM…HIS FLESH, HIS BODY, HIS PRESENCE…YOU NEED HIM TO MAKE YOURSELF WHOLE, RAVEN…YOU WANT HIM SO BADLY…YOU WANT HIM INSIDE YOU…GET HIM, RAVEN, BRING HIM TO YOU AND HAVE HIM…**_

Again, there was no loss of consciousness this time. No crippling urges, no consuming blankness. But an obsession, strong as a waterfall's downward pull and just as driven, sprang up in her. Desire…desire of the flesh, desire that set her on fire from the inside out…it was everywhere, everything, and her single objective in life became its fulfillment. She did not run off that moment to act on it, oh no. She had to prepare herself. She had to ensure that this rush, this need, this _lust_ would be satisfied. There was no other option.

* * *

"Godammit, Vic…this stuff is idiotic…seriously, why can't you just do it…you like computers…I told you, there's no porn in this…stupid robot-head…_damn_…"

Gar Logan continued mumbling under his breath as he struggled through file after file. Each one was unrecognizable by its title, and seemed to be full of documents and programs that, while familiar, all required extensive exploration to ascertain whether or not they were useful. He'd shoved all this stuff into random folders when he'd first left the Titans, and now he had to go back over his own footsteps and try to make sense of everything. It was really stupid, this whole thing was. And it was making him feel really stupid too.

Gar sighed and leaned back in the chair, putting his feet up on the massive keyboard like Vic always told him not to do. The vast emptiness of the main computer chamber had no distractions. It left him two choices: do what he was supposed to do or think. Neither was particularly appealing.

His thoughts drifted, as often happened (though not so much as usual recently), to Raven. Was Kory right? Was Raven acting weird lately? Did she need help of some kind? He—they—were used to having offers of assistance rebuffed by Raven, but there was no harm done by trying again. She was so fragile sometimes—he just wanted to hold her tightly and make all the things she had nightmares about go away. But the urge to do so, though still frequent when he looked at Raven, was fading in intensity as of late. Gar wasn't sure whether it was familiarity breeding contempt, or at least tolerance, between him and Raven, or whether he was actually getting over her. It would be nice to be over her, maybe. No more wondering, no more hoping. Just peace. And the chance to start hoping for someone new.

A sound behind him was picked up by the hearing left over from being a cat, and Gar swiveled in his seat. Maybe it was Kory and Donna, back from job-hunting, or Vic, stopping home before he met Sarah for—

"Oh my god…Raven?"

"Hello, Garfield." Her voice was low, thick, rough and smooth like velvet. But truthfully, the words hardly reached his ears: he was too busy staring with giant green eyes at Raven's slender form, silhouetted in the faintly lit doorway. She was wearing a dress—not really a dress, though, because dresses are technically clothing. What Raven sported was more or less a mass of ribbons, criss-crossing her skin in dizzying patterns, think and shining and black as her loose, flowing hair. They seemed to be strategically bound to each other, with what force it was impossible to tell; they covered the essentials, though only barely. She might as well have been naked, for all the protection from searching eyes that the ribbons afforded. Of course, most superhero women dressed like that, but this outfit—this was crossing into whole new territory.

"Raven…what…what's this?" Gar stammered as his throat began spontaneously closing up. Raven smiled, her eyes half-lidded. The dimness of the computer room brought out the shadows and curves in her bone structure: she looked like something from ancient times, some dark diety whose appetite was nearly as great as her beauty.

"This…is for you, Garfield." She spoke with that same low voice, rough and slick at the same time. She moved forwards slowly, her body swaying underneath the net of gleaming black.

"For…what?"

"For you. All of it. I want you to take it…to take me." Raven was leaning over him now, pinning him in the chair, her hands clamped onto the armrests. Gar swallowed and looked up at her face, looked into the dark eyes that burned back at him. Those eyes kept him still a second too long: suddenly they came much too close, and the next thing he knew, Gar felt her lips on his, soft and sweet and blazing hot. For a second, that was everything: that connection between them, skin to skin, a bridge between two orbiting bodies.

And then Gar pulled back. God knows it was difficult, nay, impossible to think clearly in situations like this—not that he'd ever really _been_ in situations like this before—but through the haze that was choking his thoughts, Gar recognized the familiar feeling in his spine. Something wasn't right. With Raven, with what just happened…something was wrong. He could sense it as clear as day.

"Raven…stop. Just stop for a sec." With Herculean effort, he pushed past her out of the chair, trying supremely hard to keep from staring at her body as he turned. Raven frowned, her brow furrowing.

"No. I cannot. I want…I want you. Now," she said with a growl, her hands suddenly digging into his chest. Somewhere inches below them, Gar's heart began pumping dangerously overtime; still, he stepped back, grabbing her hands tightly in his.

"Stop it, Raven. You're not you right now. This…what you're doing…this isn't you. This is something else. Come on," he said, leading her towards the door. "Wait here for a sec while I close down the system and then I'm taking you to the medical bay. We can call the other Titans from there."

"I don't want anyone else. I want you…need you…only you." She spoke with equal parts desire and determination, her eyes burning brighter still. Gar swallowed and released her hands, turning back to the computer banks. _You're turning her down…HER…after all this time…aren't you sure something isn't wrong with YOU?_

"Yeah, well, I'm truly flattered, but something weird is definitely going on with you, and I'm not dealing with another demonic takeover or what have you by myself," he said conversationally, leaning forward to initiate the shutdown sequence. "So you just stand over there and in like two seconds we can go up to medical and—"

It hit him so hard he doubled over reflexively, nearly bashing his head on the computer keyboard. Desire, lust, a sexual need unlike anything he'd ever felt before…and something more, something base, a need for more than just sexual gratification. A need that only flesh, only the movements of another body with his own, the symmetry of two creatures joining together as one, could satisfy. It coursed through his veins, hammered through his heart, radiated from his groin with such intensity that, before he could stop it, a groan oozed out of his throat, low and reverberating.

"Oh…oh God…"

Never anything like this before. Never desire so strong, so consuming. He was instantly hard, instantly shuddering in his own skin. Folded in half, his hands buried between his legs, the world behind him hazy and upside down…

And then her. Standing there, not frowning now, almost smiling, her body taught beneath the shining black bands, her skin a soft, pale color…

He was with her before he could even absorb the urge to move. His hands and arms went around her, groping and grasping and pulling her in and up, to his mouth, crushing his lips against hers. She responded with the same, if not more enthusiasm, twining one leg around his waist and pushing the other between his knees. They fused together, heat growing and writhing under their skin. In his mind, there was no thought, no processing: only want. In her mind, the same.

And then she was tugging at his uniform, pulling it from the top of his body, running her hands and mouth and tongue across every bare inch of skin. His eyes rolled back into his head, his back arched, his hands began to pull the ribbons away from her body—

_No…don't…wrong…something wrong…stop it…STOP IT, GAR!_

"No." Gar didn't know how he regained control of his voice, let alone his body, but he found himself gripping her arms and forcing her backwards. The coolness of suddenly uncovered flesh made him shiver a little. "No, Raven…this isn't…we can't…"

"We can. We can, and we will." Her eyes were on his, pulling him in, pulling him back. He was drowning again, being sucked back into the abyss after bobbing up for a second of fresh air. Her mouth was on his neck, one hand tangled in his hair and one hand sliding under his uniform, reaching down, down, touching, stroking, gripping…

"No…" One final attempt. One final plea. Futile from its conception to its utterance.

"Yes." And then there were no more words, only the pressure of skin on skin and the warmth of a tongue and the smell of sweat and the building sensation in the body, the feeling of traveling somewhere under a power you cannot control and you cannot suppress and you can never have enough of.

Somewhere, away from the darkness and heat of the computer room, and yet right there inside it, there was more quiet laughter.


	2. Uh Oh

So. I'm kinda sorta happy about how this is going. I'm mostly writing because it won't leave my brain, but meh, if anyone likes it, you're welcome to it.

A few points: this takes place almost immediately after the events of _Old Friends_, which reunited the original New Teen Titans. I know it's not the most popular of stories, but I just liked it because my guys were back together again, and that made me glad.

Lian is alive here. Obviously.

If I get anything agregiously wrong or make it stupid, please let me know. I love these guys but I'm not intensely familiar with the comics right this second...need to get my memory back in shape.

_

* * *

I'm Garfield Logan. Changeling. Beast Boy. Member of the Doom Patrol and various incarnations of the Teen Titans. I can change into any animal at will; I can bend my own shape like silly putty. I have used this ability to become a superhero. I protect people. I do the right thing._

_And yet, there are things I regret. I regret not being able to save my parents. I regret what happened to my adoptive father, Steve, and not being able to save him either. I regret the ways that I choose to confront my own pain, and I regret that most who can how I really feel are sorry for me when all I want is salvation, not pity. I regret hurting my friends and family, running away from my feelings, and letting a certain girl years ago twist my emotions into such a knot that I don't even know if they still exist in the same way. I regret many things._

_But I don't know if there's anything I regret more than what just happened._

He could feel her pulse thundering, the _thrum-thrum _of pounding blood moving through her palm and into his chest. Or maybe it was his own heart beat, coming down from that final run, that final high. It made his body shake all over…though that could be happening by itself.

The floor was incredibly uncomfortable, hard and cold and vaguely gritty. Gar began to notice it now, his senses slowly struggling out of whatever snare they'd been tangled in for the last…how many minutes? Ten? Thirty? An hour? _Oh god, Gar, what did you do now…_

They were both lying on the floor of the tech center, naked, he flat on his back and her twined around his right side. The indicting proof—his crumpled uniform and the scraps of ribbon from her "outfit"—were scattered across the room, up on the computer console and flung under a bank of whirring machines. The two of them only ended up on the floor at the end: before that, they'd pretty much been everywhere else.

She made a noise, very sweet and soft, like the puff of air from a cat's nose when it settles down for a long nap. The hand on his chest, which moments ago had been digging the nails downwards in a last wave of pleasure, was warm and heavy now, the fingers splayed delicately over the thin mat of body hair. Suddenly, she wasn't just lying there—she was snuggling, drawing up her limbs around him and sleepily nuzzling the left side of his neck. Never, in all the time he had known her, had she ever gotten this close to him or anyone else. Not sex, that was different. This kind of soft, affectionate, no-boundaries touching…Raven would sooner dance the conga with Bart Allen than cuddle with another person. And yet here she was, sweet and warm, lying with her head tucked into the crook of his neck.

It was really, really, really freaking him out.

Gar's mind was beginning to clear. Reality was zooming steadily homeward, bringing everything that had just happened into a harsh, revealing light. And in that light, he didn't like what he saw.

_I've wanted this for so long. I've wanted __**her**_. _So why do I feel like throwing up when I think about how soft she is, and why doesn't she sense that I do? I was right before. Before, when I was actually thinking instead of acting like a world-class jackass…there's something wrong with her. There has to be. That's why I feel this way…I think…_

"Mhmm…" Raven hummed into his ear, tickling the lobe. Gar flinched automatically, and suddenly he couldn't stand to lie there staring at the metal plated ceiling one more second. Stumbling, falling over himself, he pulled away from her warm embrace and got to his feet, surprised at how unsteady the ground felt beneath him. _Whoa…dizzy…oh god, now I really want to hurl…_

Keeping his back to her, pretending he was alone in the room, Gar went and retrieved his uniform from the keyboard. It was ripped in a few places: she was strong when she wanted to be, and she had goddamn wanted to be. Bluntly forcing that thought out of his mind, he pulled the suit on, feeling slightly more himself as the fibrous material clung to his body in a familiar, cocoon-like way.

Clothed now, he turned, expecting to face a confused, if not angry, empath—but Raven didn't look confused at all. In fact, she didn't seem to have noticed that he was gone: she was still lying on the floor, stark naked, her slender body curled into a ball. Her eyes flicked back and forth beneath the lids, and some silky black hair dipped towards the corner of her mouth. Her toes clenched and curled gently as she slept. In that moment, she was beautiful. Gar felt a leap of something in his chest, something that had stayed dormant all during their encounter.

_She looks different…like herself, but different…she looks…happy._

Hesitantly, he morphed into a leopard and padded towards her, his hypersensitive nose and ears on the look out for something weird. Closer and closer, the heat from her body rippling in his feline eyes…her scent of rich incense, old paper, and a dash of lavender moisturizer so strong it made him dizzy again…her hair, shining and tangled, pooled around her head…_please, Raven, be okay—_

When she moved it was so quick that had he not been a creature for whom reflexes were stronger than almost any other impulse, her foot would have found its mark precisely and his skull would be in pieces. As it was, even before he realized what was happening Gar was leaping backwards, fur bristling unbearably, a hiss escaping from his throat. She hissed back as she used the momentum from her kick to swing herself into a low crouch, one leg spreading out behind her and the other drawn up to her chest. Black eyes stared into green, and Gar found himself understanding for the first time (even though he'd been both animals before) how a mouse feels in those final moments before an owl gulps it down.

"It's me, Raven." His voice was as steady as he could make it, but it didn't seem to matter: she hissed again and leapt at him, her fingernails raking across his fur and her jaw cracking as it opened wide to bite. A powerful swat from his newfound gorilla arms sent her flying backwards: she crashed into a bank of computers, a feral scream ripping its way through her lips. Gar's heart was thundering, but he became a hummingbird and hovered in the air above her, watching as she picked herself up and snarled.

"Raven, don't give in! Don't let it control you!" _It? What's "it"? What the hell am I talking about? This is what's wrong, she's possessed, she must be, or else—or else she's all demon-y again, I don't know, she doesn't have four eyes or red skin and she's not wearing the thigh-highs and oh god what I am thinking, what am I going to do—_

She jumped at him again, her nakedness ghostly pale in the dimness of the room. Gar dipped and wheeled away, curving around behind her and heading for the door. _Wait, no, not the door! Keep her in here, keep her contained!_

But it was too late: Raven was airborne now, speeding after him, screaming something that he couldn't understand because of the pounding in his ears and because it wasn't English. He became a falcon and flew faster, trying to form a coherent thought as they banged crazily through the halls of the Tower, knocking photos down and denting doorways.

_Vic's security system. It'll zap us both if I can lead her down to the_

His thoughts turned off as though the wires in his brain had been cut. Without losing velocity or momentum, automatically morphing back into human form, Gar fell asleep, hurtling downwards and hitting the floor with a sick thud and cracking noise. He skidded, bounced, and crashed into a wall, coming to a halt into a crumpled pile of green shapeshifter. Raven hovered over him, her face twisted in triumph. The air began to shudder and spark as bands of black electricity leapt around her floating form, searing the carpet and sizzling against the wall.

"Foolish…very foolish…you have no idea, seed-carrier…you do not know what you attempt to herd," she hissed through a mouth that crackled with fire. Gar stirred, slowly starting to rise back to consciousness. It wasn't easy. Consciousness had a lot of pain and fear at the moment.

"Ow," he said, for lack of anything better to say. His vision was scrambled, rug burn was beginning to throb steadily in the places where he'd hit the floor, and his neck hurt so badly that he almost blacked out again when he looked up at her. But she wasn't her anymore—Raven's body and face remained, yet her eyes were black as space and as hot as it was cold. He'd seen her as something else countless times before, demonic and terrifying and thoroughly changed from the quiet, solemn empath he'd known for so long. But as Gar stared up at the vision of Raven that was floating above him, he felt a thrill of something new—it was like the familiar suckerpunch of horror, but multiplied, as though those Ravens of the past hovered somewhere close by, out of sight but certainly not out of mind.

"You see me now, shape-changer? But you do not know what you see…and you do not know what you face…you think that she has unleashed terrors upon you in past, but those were only bad dreams of yours…false and dying with the light. Now I will show…I will show you _nightmares_."

And, once again led by his animal senses, Gar felt them before they appeared, and he did not like what he felt.

* * *

"Swing and a miss!" Roy shouted triumphantly when the third strike hit the catcher's glove. Lian bounced up and down on his lap as the fielding team cheered and began to leave the diamond, while the batter who had struck out trudged back to his dugout with rounded shoulders.

"You never played sports as a kid, did you, Roy?" Vic asked dryly, his cybernetic eye tracking the swirling dust above the pitcher's mound. Roy sneaked a bite of Lian's cotton candy and elbowed Vic's metal ribs.

"Now what did I do wrong, O Sage of Sportly Wisdom?" he asked with mock-reverence. Lian giggled as Vic shot her father a single stink-eye.

"You're being one of _those parents_—cheering too loud, making the kids feel bad, getting competitive. If Lian actually stars playing, I bet you'll be unbearable. And I don't know if 'sportly' is a word. If it is, you're using it wrong."

"C'mon, Vic, lighten up," drawled the archer, tickling his daughter lightly and smiling as she giggled. "I'm just having a good time. How 'bout you, sweetie, you having fun?"

"I wanna swing the bat!" Lian said earnestly, sliding off Roy's lap and taking a clumsy stance on the bleachers. Vic grudgingly let a grin appear on his face as she swung an imaginary bat, nearly hitting another parent in the back of the head. He reached out to adjust her elbow, but an incoming communication made him pause.

"Oops, call from home, hold on a sec. Yo," he said into his arm, still half-watching Lian wobble around the bleachers while holding onto her father's finger. "Cyborg here, what's up?"

"_Vic! I need backup, now!_" Gar's yelp was blurred by static on his end, but the urgency in his voice came through clear as day. Roy glanced up sharply as Vic drew his arm closer, boosting the volume on his auditory circuits.

"Gar? Are you at the Tower? What's going on, what do you—"

"_Raven! Effing thingies everywhere! They're setting fi—no!" _There was a tremendous crash in the background and Vic heard the screech of a capuchin monkey as Gar shifted forms. His heart was suddenly thundering as he got to his feet, earning a few angry epithets from parents behind him. Roy saw the look on his friend's face and got up as well, pulling Lian back to him.

"Daddy, what's wrong?"

"Hush, _etai yazi_," he said quietly as Vic's brow furrowed.

"Gar? Gar, are you there? Come in—what's the situation?"

"_KSHHHHHHHHHHHHemons, I think! Way too many, I can't keep this up, they're outside thKSHKVSHHHHHHHKSSSSKKSSSSSSSSback here NOW, dammit!"_

"We're on our way, Gar," Vic said as he began pushing his way to the end of the bleachers. More complaints straggled after Roy as he followed, Lian riding his hip. He couldn't hear Gar's words or the tone of his voice, but the concern and unease was coming off Vic in waves. Something was definitely up.

"Gar, are you okay? Can you—damn!" Vic swore, his great metal arm swinging back down to his side. "Lost the signal. Roy, there's big trouble at the Tower, we need to—"

"Right behind you, but I need to take Lian home first."

"I wanna go see Uncle Gar!"

"No you don't. Want me to call the others on the way?"

"I already sent them SOS pings," Vic said grimly, staring into the distance as steel-plated neurons whirred under his skull. "Donna and Kory just responded…and there goes Wally too. He'll be on his way now." Vic shot Roy a look. "Think I should ping Dick too?"

"Is it a Raven thing? It sounded like a Raven thing."

"I don't know if anything could make Gar panic like that."

"Call him."

"See you there," said the metal man, and then he was gone, running faster than any human without hydraulic pumps and pistons for legs could. Roy ground his teeth together and dug out the keys to his bike. Lian wrapped her arms tight around his neck.

"Is Saladhead gonna be okay?"

"Of course," lied Roy as he carried his daughter towards the parking lot. _Damn it, Gar, try not to let her fry you before we get there…_


End file.
